diving before we were spotted. ‘Lookouts below! Dive! Dive!’Abe, Goto, Kusakabe and I returned to our bunks. ‘Hatches secured!’ Seawater filled the ballast tank. A high-pitched wail as air was forced out through the topside vents. I-333 tipped at 10 degrees. Light bulbs exploded. Dull pain rings in my ears. Our lives are in the hands of the crew now. We are down to a maximum of 80 metres. The hull of I-333 groans like nothing I ever heard. Nobody dares make a sound. Cpt Yokota has told us of rumours about buoys dropped by the enemy that emit sonar, and allow acoustic-guided missiles to locate and destroy submarines. Maybe Cpt Yokota is right: courage is the highest quality for a soldier, but technology is a fine substitute. I keep thinking about all the water above us. What I detest most about I-333 is the smell: it assaults my senses whenever I return from the bridge. Sweat, excrement, rotting food, and men. Men, men, men. Ashore, surprises are often welcome. They break dull routine and bring excitement. Aboard a sub, surprises can prove lethal. I am writing these words to distract my mind. Abe is meditating. Goto is praying. Kusakabe is reading. A kaiten pilot is the most dangerous agent of destruction in maritime history, but how vulnerable I feel now.
14th November
Weather deteriorating. I-333 is about halfway to our destination. Relations between Abe and Kusakabe have worsened. Yesterday evening Abe challenged him to chess, and when Kusakabe declined said, ‘Seems strange for a kaiten pilot to be afraid of losing a game.’ The accusation was dressed up as a joke, but jokes are usually other things in disguise. I think Abe is jealous of the territory Kusakabe refuses to share. Without a word Kusakabe put his book down and set up the chessboard. He destroyed Abe like you would destroy a six-year-old. He took about ten seconds per move. Abe took longer to move, his face grew grimmer, but he could not bring himself to resign. Kusakabe promoted a pawn to a queen three times while Abe’s king waited in a corner for the inevitable. When Abe knocked his king over, he joked: ‘I only hope your final mission is as great a success as your chess-playing.’ Kusakabe replied, ‘The Americans are formidable opponents, Lieutenant.’ Goto and I were afraid these insults could only lead to violence, but Abe calmly put the chessmen away. ‘The Americans are an effete race of cowards. Without his gun, the Yankee is nothing.’ Kusakabe folded the board. ‘We have lost this war by swallowing our own propaganda. It poisons our faculties.’ Abe lost control, grabbed the chessboard, and flung it across our cabin. ‘Then exactly why are you here, kaiten pilot?’ Kusakabe stares back defiantly at our superior officer. ‘The meaning of my sacrifice is to help Tokyo negotiate a less humiliating surrender.’ Abe hissed with rage. ‘Surrender? That word is an anathema to the Yamato-damashii spirit! We liberated Malaya in ten weeks! We bombed Darwin! We blasted the British from the Bay of Bengal! Our crusade created a co-prosperity sphere unrivalled in the East since Genghis Khan! Eight corners united under one roof!’ Kusakabe was neither angry nor bowed. ‘A great pity the Yamato-damashii spirit never figured out how to stop the roof collapsing in on us.’ Abe shouted hoarsely. ‘Your words disgrace the insignia on your uniform! They insult your squadron! If we were on Otsushima I would report you for seditious thought! We are talking about good and evil! The divine will made manifest!’ Kusakabe glared back. ‘We are talking about bomb tonnage. I wish to sink an enemy carrier, but not for you, lieutenant, not for the regiment, not for the blue-bloods or the clowns in Tokyo, but because the fewer planes the Americans have raining bombs on Japan, the greater the chance my sisters will survive this stupid bloody war.’ Abe struck Kusakabe’s face with his right hand, twice, hard, then hooked him under the chin with the left. Kusakabe staggered, and said ‘An excellent line of reasoning, lieutenant.’ Goto got between them. I was too shocked to move. Abe spat at Kusakabe and stormed out, but there are not many places to storm to on a submarine. I got a damp cloth to bathe the bruise, but Kusakabe picked up his book as if nothing had happened. So calm, I almost suspect him of provoking Abe in order to be left in peace.
15th November
Weather: rain and wind, tail